


Missing shots

by katuen



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Engineer & Soldier in the distance, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-24
Updated: 2014-09-24
Packaged: 2018-02-18 15:24:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2353220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katuen/pseuds/katuen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sniper keeps missing his shots, and the team keeps losing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Missing shots

Sniper was always the reserved one, sitting in his hideout looking down at the fighting and jumping in to get stray enemies or ones which were a problem, only occasionally did he get any intrusions with enemy spies and the other sniper.

But today, it was different.

Or in fact the last week was. He hadn't hit a single head shot no matter what he tried, the odd body shots but nothing spectacular. And yet today he hadn't hit a single person.

He could see his own team talking to each other frantically trying to put together a plan, or at least Soldier shouting at whoever was in ear-shot. Unfortunately for Engineer, he was upgrading a new sentry at the time, casting a glance around to try to find the missing members of the team. He did stop to stare in the direction of the tower the Sniper had made base in and even if he couldn't see the expression of the shorter man well, it seemed to hold a slight scowl as the Texan got the brunt of complaints.

After another hour of attempting to hit anything with various coffee's and frustrated noises fitted in-between, he snapped his head up as he though he heard a familiar cloaking sound, and as if perfected he grabbed his knife from his pocket and threw it across the room, landing with a satisfying thud and sticking to the wall. He stared at it for a moment before sighing and looking back to the window, rubbing his temples followed by removing his glasses and rubbing at his eyes. Perhaps the fuzziness he saw was just his frustration.

He returned to his rifle to aim again, this time without his glasses, aiming for the enemy sniper which he had heard was taking out his team fairly consistently.

One shot. Miss.

Return fire. Hit.

A sudden sharp pain came from his arm, cursing as he edged away from the small window and put his back to the wall in time to avoid another shot hitting him as he cast a glance down to his arm. It had only grazed the skin but it was enough to make it bleed and bring a red patch to the cloth above it. 

A noise close to a hiss was heard and he quickly reached for the knife in his pocket to find it gone from there, still stuck in the wall from where he previously threw it, he admitted it wasn't the first time he had done that but with a glare he turned his attention to the side ready to fight the enemy sp-

"Mon cher, I would appreciate you not throwing knives at me."

A glance over the other man confirmed it was no enemy, only the spy on his own team who had only just uncloaked and that he was in fact hit with the knife, evident from the small blood stain on the ground and the similar stain which had hit the smaller mans waist, in the process also ruining his suit.

"What are you doing Spy?"

With a swift motion, the Frenchman tugged the knife out from the wall, walking over calmly and held it out to the other, who took it back and placed it to his side.

"That should be a question I ask you, bushman."

"I'm fine."

It came out as more of a hiss as he turned his attention back to his arm, before pausing as a small hand moved out and put some spare cloth to his arm, taking no time to make it a small bandage, with obvious practise with the smaller fingers.

But afterwards the seemingly gentle hand moved and gripped Snipers chin, forcibly turning his head to look ahead and to the Spy who had a small frown.

Spy looked between the others eyes, his left one still seemed.. bright, but the other eye. He didn't want to imagine how it was for the other, it looked a bit foggy, he could only guess that it was from the strain of using the sniper rifle and also the cause for the others "off days". He watched the others eyes dart between both of his owns before casting them down, moving his hand up and slowly ran a thumb over his cheek. Only speaking after some moments had passed.

"Mon cher.."

**Author's Note:**

> This was a one-shot writing I created over a year back that I completely forgot about. I went through it and fixed it up quickly. Sadly thought of from a family friend who had recently - and suddenly - also gone blind in only one eye and I applied it to TF2
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
